CO2
Raised in poverty. Raising Celline in wealth. The more I thought about it, the deeper the ache in my chest grew and before I knew it, tears spilled down my cheeks again.
Mom and Dad immediately panicked, their voices filled with concern as they asked what was wrong–if someone had bullied me.
I shook my head and forced a small smile. Then, in the softest voice, I said, “Last night, I went out to watch the
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A Fake Poverty that My Parent Build for Me
fireworks alone. I saw a beautiful girl with Mom and Dad. You bought her so many things.”
I hesitated before adding, “But no one was with me. I’ve always been alone.”
Mom and Dad exchanged glances. Panic flickered in their eyes for a fleeting second–so fast that most people wouldn’t have noticed. But I did.
Mom’s eyes reddened as she pulled me into a tight embrace, her voice trembling with emotion. “Little Feather, it’s our fault. We’re useless parents. We couldn’t give you a luxurious life and we’re always so busy with work… We didn’t have time to be there for you.”
Once upon a time, her tears would have softened my heart and I would have rushed to comfort her. But now, all I could think about was how good her acting skills were. Too busy with work? Or too busy taking care of her?
“Naomi, there’s no need to envy others just because we’re poor,” Dad said, his voice full of wisdom, as if he was teaching me a valuable lesson. But I wasn’t envious of others.
I was envious of Celline–their cherished, adopted daughter who was treated better than their own flesh and blood.
“Okay, okay, let’s not dwell on this. I’ll go heat up your food,” Mom said, quickly getting up and heading to the kitchen.
She brought back a plate of seafood–something I had never been given before. Yet, despite the delicacies, I didn’t touch a single bite. Instead, I focused on my plain white rice, eating in silence.
“Little Naomi, why aren’t you eating the shrimp and crab?”
“You’re still growing! You need more nutrition,” Mom and Dad insisted as they peeled shrimp and crab, placing them into my bowl with care. But the food tasted like nothing to me.
They claimed they wanted me to be healthy, yet they were spending all their money on her. How ironic.
After dinner, I mustered up all my courage and finally voiced a request. “I want a new computer.” It was the first time I had ever asked for something.
The laptop I had used throughout college was a second–hand model, bought for five hundred dollars. It lagged even when opening a simple document. But I had never dared to ask for a replacement, fearing it would burden my parents financially. Instead, every penny I earned from part–time jobs, I gave to my mom–to help pay off our so–called debts.
“Little Naomi, can you manage with what you have?” Dad sighed heavily. “Your mom and I haven’t even paid off our external debts yet.”
“Yes, Naomi. If it’s not absolutely necessary, let’s wait until you start working and save up for it yourself,” Mom added, her voice full of difficulty.
Of course. Of course, it would be like this.
My heart sank, an icy chill spreading through me as I recalled the scene from last night. Celline wanted a sports car and a necklace worth millions and they bought them without hesitation. I only asked for a computer worth a few thousand dollars and yet….
I clenched my fists under the table.
Perhaps they noticed my sinking mood because Dad suddenly sat beside me, squeezed out a smile and tugged my hand gently. “Daughter, why don’t we go to the movies tonight?”
“Yes, yes! Let’s go together! And we’ll buy Little Feather a big bucket of popcorn,” Mom added, her eyes filled with anticipation.
I hesitated for a few seconds, but eventually, I nodded. “Okay. Because… spending a holiday with Mom and Dad was something I had always longed for. The moment I agreed, both of them let out a breath of relief, their shoulders relaxing. Buzz!
10:29 AM.
A Fake Poverty that My Parent Build for Me
Just then, Dad’s phone vibrated. He picked it up, glanced at the screen and his expression shifted. He quickly exchanged glances with Mom before clearing his throat.
“Aigoo, Older Brother Larry needs to meet us about work,” he said casually.
Then he turned to me. “Little Naomi, stay home for now. Don’t go out, okay? There are a lot of bad people roaming
around during the New Year.”
Just like that, my last shred of hope crumbled.
